


For the Red-Head

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Dean in Denial, Dreamwalking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s09e13 The Purge, Rare Characters Exchange, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie’s the little sister Dean never wanted, but she’s going to save him in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Red-Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookedspoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/gifts).



> Written for Rare Characters Exchange for crookedspoon. I love Charlie and Dean too, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Spoilers for 'The Purge.'

Sleeping used to be easy, a long time ago that Dean could vaguely remember. It was anything but easy now.

He would slip on his headphones with every intent to drown out his thoughts with ear-splitting classic rock, but nothing could drown out the words that were still echoing in his head, the words that his brother said to him just before Sam left the room, or rather, left Dean’s life completely, because that’s more of how it felt. They were words that made Dean’s entire world shake and crumble down around him; words that grabbed at him and tore him apart, kicking him and strangling him. More than anything the coldness of his brother’s eyes and the even colder impassive look on his face crushed Dean’s heart until there was nothing left.

Sam wouldn’t save Dean’s life if he were dying. His own brother....

Dean had collapsed in on himself, struggled for air for a few moments in the face of Sam’s blatant hatred for him. It seemed there was no reason to go on, but somehow he picked himself up again and made it to his room, collapsing onto his bed and slipping his headphones on with shaking hands. He was more than just drained, he was exhausted, so tired that the room around him was tilting from just sitting upright; sleep hadn’t come that night though, and not for days after that.

He wasn’t shaking anymore, and he could breathe just fine, but Dean was dying inside.

And then one blissful night he fell asleep, as a result of his body shutting down or something else, Dean didn’t know, but he could have cried in relief if he had been awake. The deep and penetrating darkness didn’t last for long; Dean was sucked into what he could only assume was a dream before he could situate himself in the peace that darkness brought. The surroundings were unfamiliar: green fields bursting with flowers of every color as far as the eye could see, a sky so blue it definitely couldn’t be real.

“Long time no see, Dean. Or, I guess it’s been longer for me than it’s been for you. Dorothy says time passes much slower here, slower even than the actual book. Go figure, huh?”

Dean turned around and felt a surge of joy as he caught sight of Charlie, looking exactly like when he had last seen her, except she looked... happier somehow, more alive. She was okay. Then again, Dean never doubted that she would be. Charlie was a lot tougher than she looked, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy to have proof of her still breathing.

He walked towards her before he even realized what he was doing and engulfed her in a hug. The sweet smell of the flowers mingled with her strawberry scented hair, and Dean felt at home for the first time in months. He didn’t care if he was being creepy by digging his nose into her hair; he’s had no one to talk to since his falling out with Sam, and he needed _someone_.

Charlie patted his back awkwardly - yet Dean knew it was all play - before she sunk into him and hugged him back, small hands surprisingly holding him upright. Dean felt safe here, with her, like he wouldn’t fall apart with Charlie smiling at him.

“It’s good to see you too, Dean. If I haven’t mentioned that already.”

Dean pulled away and grinned. It was good to hear her voice even though he would never admit it: the snark and the pretending not to care. Dean saw a lot of himself in her. “How you holding up, Charlie?”

“Oh, you know, saving Oz, hunting things, the family business.” She smiled and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. It was an act and Dean could see right through it, knew Charlie’s death had shaken her up and that she still hadn’t gotten over it. He wondered whether this would be the talk she wanted to have. Dean didn’t regret his decision, never would, but as much as he didn’t want to have that discussion he also didn’t want to leave.

He wasn’t tired anymore, he felt refreshed. The urge to relax warred with the need to know how Charlie had managed to bring him here, crossing their dreams together or whatever the hell she had worked up, and unfortunately the latter won.

“So what brings you here, then? You’re not in trouble or anything, are you?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. Dorothy and I are making great progress, I’ll have you know. But I do miss you guys sometimes.”

“We miss you too, Charlie.” He could definitely use some of her exuberance and seemingly boundless energy in his life right about now. Then again, between binge-watching Game of Thrones and teaching Charlie to follow in his and Sam’s footsteps, hanging out with Charlie was actually _fun_. “So... nothing’s wrong?” It wouldn’t be unlike Charlie, for her to just pop in and see how he was doing, telling him all about her adventures with Dorothy, but he also figured how busy she must be in her new life, and had a strange suspicion that Charlie hadn’t interrupted his dreams just to chat. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Yes, Dean. Something is wrong. You and Sam.”

Dean’s face fell.

“Your misery is so _loud_ , did you actually think that I wouldn’t be able to figure it out? Dorothy’s given me a way to look in and see how my two favorite Winchesters are doing, so yeah, Dean, I know what’s been going on. I’ve been waiting for you to fall asleep so I could finally talk to you.”

A surge of anger rose up within him because of his need for privacy and to work through his issues with Sam on his own time and in his own way. The apparent endless list of problems between Dean and his brother were nobody’s business but theirs, and it should stay that way but it never does, someone else always gets dragged into them. He doesn’t want Charlie to pity him or lecture him, and he definitely doesn’t want her getting stuck in the middle or taking sides either.

“You gonna give me the same speech as Kevin did? Or are you gonna go a completely different route, Charlie?” He didn’t mean to sound so accusing, but the words came out before he could stop them. This was the last thing he wanted to talk to her about, but clearly it was the only thing Charlie _wanted_ to talk about.

She backed up a step or two and held her hands up, palms facing outward. “Chill out, dude. You know I came to help you, right? You’re not gonna last much longer like this.”

“And how the hell would you know that? Where have you been? Running off to have adventures with Dorothy in Oz.” He noticed the hurt look on her face and lowered his tone, changing direction abruptly, but he also couldn’t miss the determination in her eyes. Damn, what had he done to deserve this? “I don’t fault you for leaving, Charlie. I’m glad you’re having fun and helping in the best way you know how, but you haven’t been here and you have no idea what’s been going on between my brother and I. So don’t assume!”

Charlie came right back at him with everything she had. “I’m not assuming, Dean. I’ve seen enough of it. You two are set to self-destruct. Or already have,” she waved the thought away, “but that’s not the point. The point is communication, conversation, arguing, beating each other to a bloody pulp, whatever. You two just need to talk. It never works when you guys are quiet and sulking, believe me, I’ve seen it before. I’m not here to take sides but I am here to help. It’s the least I can do.”

Dean seemed to deflate then, cursing himself for letting Charlie successfully weave her way back into his life, buried underneath his endless list of the things he hated about himself. The problem between him and Sam wasn’t Sam, it was _him_. He made the only choice he knew how to make and he would save Sam’s life again in a heartbeat, but his brother was right, Dean didn’t want to be alone, and he would drag everyone down with him so he wouldn’t have to be.

He was worthless, useless, and why Charlie or anyone else couldn’t see that was beyond him.

It was better that Charlie was away, fighting the good fight, and it was better that Sam kept his distance from him too. Dean was poison and he didn’t deserve someone to talk to, didn’t deserve to not want Charlie to leave so fiercely that it left behind a deep ache in his chest. He didn’t deserve to want anything, but Charlie wanted to spend time with him and who was he to deny her anything?

“You don’t want to do this, Charlie,” he begged, one last effort. “Don’t get involved.”

“Why?” She breached the space between them, bending down slightly so she could look into Dean’s eyes, which he was unsuccessfully trying to hide with his hands. “If you don’t want me here then fine. But I know you do. I know you’re struggling, trying to adjust, trying to beat back that doubt and self-loathing. But, Dean,” she put a hand on his shoulder and tipped his head back up with her fingers, betraying the guilt and the tears pooling in his eyes, “you don’t have to pretend for me. I know, I get it, I feel useless at times too. I used to feel useless all the time, and then I met you and Sam and you guys showed me that I didn’t have to just be a no-name hacker, that I could do something _more_. _Be_ something _more_.”

“I’m glad, Charlie. I’m really happy that....”

“Shut up, jerk.” She shoved him away and a laugh ripped out of Dean’s throat. He quickly wiped his eyes with shaking fingers and then looked back up at her. There she was, Charlie, in her warrior stance with that deep red hair she flicked over her shoulder more often than could be labeled inconspicuous. He loved her, he really did, as the little sister he never wanted but apparently needed all along.

Fuck, he missed her.

“Talk to Sam,” she urged, but with a small smile. “Maybe you’ll feel horrible at first, like nothing will let up, but eventually it will, and the sooner you do this the sooner things can get back to normal between you two. I’m coming back someday, and I’ll be kicking your asses into gear if nothing has changed, believe me.”

“I’ll be waiting, Charlie,” he laughed shakily. “Believe me, I’ll be waiting.”

She rolled her eyes, grinned and turned to leave, but then she turned back around, a mischievous look on her face. “You haven’t said bitch yet, by the way. I’ll be waiting for that too when I get back.” With that she was gone, and Dean spiraled back down into darkness and a deep sleep free of people he knew and embarrassing situations.

His eyes were still wet in the morning when he woke up, and he wiped them quickly before stumbling out of bed. He could hear Sam downstairs in the kitchen making something, and he figured this was as good a time as any to talk. Sam would walk away at first, stubborn idiot that he was, but Dean was just as stubborn as Sam and he would hold his ground and say what he needed to say, not letting Sam out of his sight until it was said.

He sighed, threw on his bathrobe quickly, and headed down to the kitchen, forcing himself not to walk slowly. Charlie was right, he had to get this over with before he really couldn’t take it anymore, before there was no hope at repairing whatever had been broken between him and Sam.

His brother was turned away from him, oblivious to his presence, and once more Dean thought about leaving, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t ignore last night, couldn’t betray Charlie like that. He couldn’t just keep sitting around and doing nothing, waiting for Sam to come to him. He had to take the initiative on this one, even if Sam hated him even more for it.

Dean cleared his throat and approached his brother. “Sam, we need to talk.”

For the bitch. For Charlie.

**FIN**


End file.
